Date: Sat, 27 May 2006 10:51:10 +0000
From: Jason Parker
Subject: The Angel: Chapter 30
Author's Note: Hey, sorry about the oh-so-very-long delay. I've had to write
the majority of this chapter twice now, after the first copy got destroyed,
and life has just been so hectic lately, I've had so little time until
recently to work on the story again. Now, the last two chapters met with
somewhat mixed opinions. Some people loved them, some people hated them. As
such, I decided to do something to try to appease both groups with this last
chapter. Therefore, Chapter 30 has been written in such a way that, if you
should choose to, you can ignore chapters 28 and 29 and pretend it jumps
right from 27 to 30. But if you liked the last two chapters, then the whole
thing still works. It's up to you. I hope you enjoy this final chapter. It's
been an amazing experience for me.
Disclaimer: For one last time, it seems that I have to cover my ass, so
here we go-don't read this if you're too young or if you're offended by bad
language, homosexuality, differing religious opinions or any of that
jazz. Otherwise, enjoy!
Author's other note: GO BACK AND READ THE FIRST ONE FOR INSTRUCTIONS IF YOU
DIDN'T ALREADY. IT'S KIND OF IMPORTANT.
* * *
'Resurrection'
Matt sat alone on the crest of the sand dune, looking out over the
sea as the haunting sounds of Sigor R--s drifted up from the stage behind
and below him. A lone seagull drifted idly on air currents out over the
ocean and he watched the air ruffle its feathers.
He heard soft footfalls in the sand behind him but didn't turn.
Instead, he scooped up a hand-full of sand and let the grains slowly
trickle out. The visitor cleared their throat. Soft, feminine.
"Matthew are..." Sara started, "are you ok?"
He held his silence stoically. Out over the water, the seagull
dived, reaching for a fish or morsel just below the surface.
Sara sighed at his lack of response. She scuffed her foot on a tuft
of sand-grass and then moved closer. Eventually she sat, her legs out in
front of her, bare feet joining his own in digging into the sand. She drew
a long breath before speaking again. "Matt I wanted to say... I'm sorry.
For how I've treated you... I knew you loved Jason. I'm sorry it took what
it did for me to really realize that..."
"It was my fault." Matt said quietly, acknowledging her presence
for the first time. "If I'd paid more attention to Damien before his fall,
none of it ever would have happened."
Sara shook her head. "Matt, you can't blame yourself for what he
did. My brother's death wasn't your fault. Damien was solely to blame for
it-"
"No. I was the one who appointed him as watcher for your family. It
all comes back to me in the end."
She sat silently for a while, both of them watching the swell and
ebb of the waves on the beach below them. Eventually, she noticed Matt's
shoulders were shaking ever so slightly; as if he were try to suppress a
sob. "Matt..." she started.
He raised his hands before him. They were shaking. "All I could
think about... as I was sitting there... holding his head..." His voice
broke and his shoulders slumped as he finally let out the emotion he'd kept
bottled inside. "All I could think about was how much I loved him and that
I never got to tell him..."
The waves crashed and rolled as his mind swam back through memories
of the last nine months, past all that had happened, back to the day Azreal
had stood in heaven and changed things forever.
* * *
Matt had watched as Azreal propelled himself through the gates with his
wings. He landed on his feet several paces within. Light cascaded down
around him, setting his form gleaming. The ground beneath him fell away
suddenly, and it was Jason's face that looked back at Matt in surprise for
a moment. The angel lunged to reach him, but he was already falling. Matt's
grasping hands were met by solid earth as Jason tumbled down and the ground
reformed above him. He hit the ground hard and then leapt to his feet
again, whirling on Mephistopheles who still waited outside the gates. "What
happened? Where did he go?"
The fallen angel shrugged. "He's human. He's not meant to be here."
"But where did he go?"
"How should I know!"
Ashley grabbed his arm. "Matt, I'm sure he's fine. You don't need
to-"
"I have to find him Ash-I'm sorry." He slipped from of her grasp
and dissolved in a shower of sparks.
His sudden appearance in the Parker's foyer startled Fiona. He
caught her with an arm as she slipped on the polished floor. He didn't even
wait until she was standing again. "Is Jason here? Have you seen him?"
"No, I-" she started, but he wasn't listening.
As soon as she said she hadn't, he started to disappear, his form
dissolving again and he ignored the rest of what she said-something about
the boy Drew and Jason's mother and a hospital.
Sara looked up from her desk as light filled her office. Matt
stood, looking panicked.
"What do you want?" She snapped.
"Have you seen Jason?"
"What?"
"Have you seen Jason?" Matt asked again urgently.
"I thought he was with you."
Matt sighed. "He was... and then he went somewhere."
"You lost my brother too?!" She was on her feet now, her nostrils
flaring angrily.
The angel paused, and focused his eyes on her. "Too?"
She nodded. "Yeah, the Guardian... he wouldn't tell me where Jason
was either... just said something about being off in a field somewhere.
He--"
But Matt was already fading as the light welled up around him. She
slumped heavily in her chair, the files spread across her table now
forgotten.
There was a field near Tristfall gorge, perched on the edge of the
ravine. Once, long ago, before the area had been suburbanized, it had
belonged to a small farm. The land was sold and divvied up for various
properties, but the proximity of the gorge had meant that the one field was
deemed unsound for construction. It had grown fallow and provided the
surrounding neighborhood with a regular display of wildflowers throughout
the year. Jason had made his way to it on more than one summer day as he
was growing up. It was to this field, that Matt descended. Coalescing by
the road, he looked around quickly to make sure no one had noticed his
arrival. It was Christmas day-everyone was inside with their families.
The field was coated with several inches of fresh snow, making the
poppies that still sprouted stand out like blood-drops on linen. Something
had made a void in the middle of the field, and it was towards this that
Matt ran, a churning feeling in the pit of his stomach. It felt as if the
world was holding its breath-as if the very wind had gone silent-as his
feet crunched across the frozen earth and snow, leaving crimson flowers
swaying in his wake. He came to a halt at the edge of the void, his
trembling legs giving out as he collapsed. He reached out a trembling hand
and then pulled it back as if afraid to touch. And then his control
shattered and he started to sob and cry. His hands reached out again and
dug into Jason's stilled chest, clawing at the cold skin underneath his
shirt in desperation. His lips trembled and he shook his head, trying to
deny what he could see before him.
The boy was sprawled, like a discarded doll, his arms flung out on
either side of his body, and one leg crumpled up underneath the other at an
odd angle. Matt wailed and his face contorted in a grimace, spittle flying
from his mouth. His chest shook with wrenching sobs. He crawled to sit
behind his shoulders and stroked the boy's hair with a shaking hand before
carefully lifting his head in his hands. He keeled low over his stilled
face and kissed his whitened lips softly with his own, quivering mouth. He
couldn't see anymore, the tears flowing too freely from his eyes so he
squeezed then tightly. He gripped Jason's shirt in his hands, scrunching
the cloth, his fists quaking.
Matt felt something flicker against his cheek and sat up quickly.
He looked down and-yes! Jason's eyes had opened. His lips moved minutely.
Matt furrowed his brow and bent low, his heart racing. Was he trying to say
something? Jason's lips parted further, and a slow trickle of blood seeped
from the corner of his mouth. His voice crackled with liquid and it was so
quiet, Matthew had to strain to hear.
"Help Drew... please... Damien hurt him"
A bubble of blood formed and then burst on Jason's lips,
splattering both their faces with tiny flecks of crimson.
Matt straightened up and screamed, "Somebody help me!" His voice
expanded and magnified like a shockwave of air so that it shook the flowers
around them and shattered the windows in near-by houses. People began to
run from their houses, looking franticly about them. The angel bent low
over Jason's face again and kissed him shakily on the lips, before resting
his head back in the snow. He vanished in a burst of light, attracting
those that had heard his scream. Soon enough, several of them were running
across the field to where Jason lay and emergency services were being
called.
* * *
Matt blossomed into form high in the sky and immediately unfurled
his wings, halting the sudden fall he had begun. Something Fiona had said
surfaced from the recesses of his mind. Even in his focused fervor, some
small subconscious part of him had taken in what she said, something about
"Elizabeth and Drew," and "hospitals."
He searched the roads below, keen eyes hunting for the disturbance
of emergency vehicles-cars pulling off the road and flashing lights. He
found them quickly, just entering the city outskirts. A pair-the foremost
with sirens blaring and lights flashing to part the traffic like Moses at
the Red Sea. The second however followed in its wake, sirens stilled. He
swooped lower, focusing on the second vehicle, brilliant wings flickering
in reflection as he passed a glass office block. He landed deftly on the
metal step, playing on the distraction of the sirens to detract attention
away from his arrival. He pulled his wings within his body and flung the
ambulance door open, slipping inside.
Two paramedics leapt to their feet. One of them slammed his hand
against the glass separating the driver from the cabin and the van started
to slow. The other moved towards Matt, clearly intending to keep him from
their patient or medicine-whichever he was after.
Thinking quickly, the angel spread his hands, palms facing them.
"Please, I'm trying to help!" But when the doctor continued to advance, he
swiftly called up an illusion, setting his eyes blazing with white fire and
summoning a regal angelic splendor to cover his form. The paramedics fell
back, shielding their eyes from the light. "Tell the driver to keep going,"
Matthew yelled, his voice magnified so that it rang off the metal interior.
The paramedic hit the glass again and yelled something through the
partition, and he felt the ambulance speed up again.
Matt turned to the stilled body on the gurney, for the first time
noticing the gaping hole in Drew's chest. His shirt was wet with blood and
clung to his skin, which was itself already ashen. His lips were tinged
with blue. Clearly he'd been dead long before the ambulance had got to
him. He slipped his finger under the boy's collar and traced down, the
fabric splitting easily under the digit.
"He's dead-" one of the paramedics began.
But Matt put his finger to his lips and hushed him. Both of the
medics fell silent, standing stock still like cardboard cutouts. He took a
deep breath, and then bent low over the body. He cupped his hands before
his face and then froze. The ambulance ground to a halt, but without
losing any motion. He raised his head and looked out the small side window.
A pigeon rising up from the street, startled by the ambulance, hung
suspended mid-wing beat. He stood up and watched, as his body remained
hunched over the boy, his waist now seeming to sprout from his own lower
back. He back-stepped quickly, out of the space his body occupied.
Something glowed brightly behind him and he turned.
A glowing white form coalesced into the flickering body of a human.
It shifted between shape, age, and gender so rapidly that the angel had
trouble focusing on it. Eventually, the changes in appearance slowed and
then ceased altogether, settling on that of a bright-eyed adolescent boy.
"You!" Matt exclaimed, recognizing him as his brief abductor just
the day before.
"Yes, me. You do understand what you're about to do, don't you?"
The Guardian stared at him with emotionless, piercing eyes.
Matt nodded slowly.
The Guardian remained impassive. "He was human."
"Yes."
"He was in no way unnatural."
The angel could see where this was leading and quickly interjected,
"But his death was. He was killed by Damien, in Hell. I can smell it all
over him."
"Perhaps it was his time to die."
Matthew shook his head. "Not at the hands of Damien."
"And what if it was his time regardless of the method?"
"Then I guess he'll just die again." They stood facing each other
in the small compartment, the world frozen around them. Eventually Matthew
crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "You told me that only unnatural
force could interfere with unnatural force. So how is it that Damien was
able to do this?"
The Guardian stepped around the deceased, hands clasped behind his
back. He bent and peered closely at the boy, and then at the angel's frozen
form, still leaning over the gurney. It was an intensely uncomfortable
sensation for Matthew-to see himself from outside, completely unable to
move.
Finally, the being answered, "He was open to interference by
association with unnatural force. Through Jason."
"But then anybody could be open to interference."
The Guardian stood and for the first time that Matt had seen, he
smiled. He changed the subject with his question however. "You're certain
of this course of action?"
Matt nodded. "Jason asked me to help him."
"But you realize how this will affect you?" An inquisitive tone had
crept into the being's voice, as if it was struggling to understand him.
Matt only nodded again.
"And if he dies?"
"Then at least I can say I tried."
A pause, and then, "And if Jason dies? What then? Will it have been
worth it?"
Something caught in the angel's throat. "He won't. I know him. He's
too strong to give up."
The Guardian blinked. "Is he? Or was Azreal the strong one?"
Matt frowned, and then shook his head as if casting off unwelcome
thoughts. "It doesn't matter. Jason wanted this."
"But did he know the cost?" The question hung in the air heavily.
Of course he hadn't. But it was soon followed by another. "And Ashley? What
of her?"
He tried unsuccessfully to keep the emotion from his voice. "She
doesn't need me anymore. She'll understand. She can always visit when she
needs."
The Guardian shook his head. "No Matthew, not anymore. Remember,
Azreal's decree. They can no longer interfere with earthly affairs."
"Then why am I being allowed to do this?"
A tilt of the head, and then, "This was set into motion prior to
the decree. I'm willing to allow this to play out." He didn't even give the
angel time to reply. "I can see you're set upon your actions. Very well.
They won't remember any of this," he said, gesturing vaguely towards the
frozen paramedics.
There was a flash of brilliant light and Matt closed his eyes
against it. When he opened them again, he was once more doubled over Drew's
corpse, back in his own body. He could feel the movement of the ambulance
wheels on the tarmac. He lowered his hands briefly and whispered, "I'm
sorry Ash. I love you." And then set to.
* * *
Ashley surveyed the transformed landscape of Heaven from her
balcony. It was teaming with souls and more arrived with every passing
minute. She heard Matt's whispered voice by her ear and drew a sharp
breath. She sagged against the marble column behind her, feeling the
connection between her and her brother start to tear, as if a part of her
was being torn free. She fought back the lump in her throat. "I love you
too Matt."
* * *
Matt concentrated and began to exhale. He didn't open his eyes at
first. He needed to be sure the process had begun before he could risk the
distraction. Something gently tickled his fingertips in front of his
face-but he had to be sure. He opened his air passages, letting it flow out
into his cupped hands. The silvery wisps of moire trickled out of his mouth
in small tendrils at first, but then more and more began to flow. He opened
his eyes, careful to keep his concentration focused on the ethereal
tendrils in his hands. He continued to exhale slowly, shaping the mass of
pearly substance into a tightly woven ball, making sure not a single strand
spilled out. The ambulance hit a pothole and he stumbled slightly. He
forced his breath out faster, tuning out the distractions of the world
around him.
Something tickled his neck, and then his brow. He was sweating. The
ball was growing, and the wispy strands were starting to slip over the
edges of his fingers. Slowly, so as not to lose any, he folded his hands
closed, keeping only an opening for his lips. He saw in his mind's eyes,
the ball compacting and solidifying. He squeezed his chest, flattening his
lungs to force more of the precious air out. He could feel his legs
weakening and his vision started to blur. Just as he was beginning to grow
dizzy from oxygen starvation, he drew a sharp breath and closed his hands
tightly.
The mass of aether in his hands started to shift, becoming unstable
without the continuing influx of more. Carefully, he positioned it over
the wound in Drew's chest and parted his hands from the bottom. The moire
tried to slip out, but he forced his hands down. He staggered. He was
almost too weak to stand-but he wasn't done yet. He pressed a hand firmly
over the wound and sank to his knees, bringing his mouth level with the
boy's ear. He whispered something too soft to be heard over the engine of
the ambulance and then the spot under his hand flared brightly. Matthew
slouched back on his heels. He wiped his brow absently with one hand and
looked at it curiously. A smear of blood and sweat crossed the back of his
hand like a coating of fresh paint.
He heard the two paramedics behind him unfreeze and then he
collapsed sideways on the floor. Vaguely he heard a sharp intake of breath
and then a gurgle. The startled medics jumped to action, one pounding on
the glass partition, shouting for the driver to hit the sirens. And then he
blacked out.
* * *
Sara saw the glow of sparks in her peripheral vision and shouted,
"He's not here! What use are you if you can't even find your ward?"
The feminine voice that replied startled her and made her turn. "I
know you dislike my kind," Ashley said tersely, "but my brother is dying
for yours. You could at least go and thank him."
Sara's mouth fell open an inch and she hissed. "What?"
"They'll soon be in the county hospital, along with your mother and
Drew. You won't be hearing from us again, so I suggest you take Scott and
go to them now." And before Sara could ask anymore, the angel vanished in a
burst of golden motes.
She dashed from around her desk and out the door of her office,
skidding into Scott as he was coming up the hall. She grabbed his
hand. "Get your keys. We're going to the hospital."
* * *
The council room at Antioch was in chaos. It was taking all their
resources available to prevent a global media sensation. No less than eight
other countries had watched the mass move across their radars after India
and Pakistan, and numerous space satellites in orbit had picked up the
movement. Every agent, bribe and debt had been called into use and there
was still a risk that the whole thing could be blown wide open. The
official story was that the disturbance was caused by a massive solar
flare, momentarily scrambling radar and satellites.
Thus, when his secretary tapped him lightly on his shoulder, he
waved her off impatiently, ignoring the cell phone she offered. She
persisted however until he turned, covering the mouthpiece of his own
phone. "What is it?"
She extended the phone to him. "I think you want to take this. It's
about your wife."
Mr. Parker uncovered the other phone. "I'm sorry ambassador, I'm
going to have to call you back." They swapped phones. "Hello?"
"Hi, Mr. Parker? It's Fiona."
"Fiona, hi. I'm very busy right now, is this important?"
"I'm sorry..." her voice started to quiver. "I'm at your
house... I just found your cell phone number... the ambulances just left,
I-"
Mr. Parker felt his stomach convulse. "What ambulances?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened." She was beginning to sound
more and more upset. "When I got here, she looked like she'd been thrown
through a window and... and the boy... Drew... and that smell... like
rotting eggs..."
"Who? She who?" He almost shouted, causing several people to look
quizzically at him before returning to their frantic pace of work.
"Elizabeth..." Fiona sobbed. "She was out in the snow, and he
wasn't breathing... And then Matt just... appeared and then vanished,
looking for Jason."
"Fiona, I'll be there as soon as I can. I'm going to call a friend
to come over, ok? He'll try and help you."
"Thank you." She croaked, and then he hung up.
He pushed back from his desk and grabbed his secretary's
sleeve. "Nicole, I need a car. We're leaving."
They tried to leave with as little commotion as possible. He left
his briefcase and coat at his desk, trying to appear as if they were simply
slipping out momentarily and would be returning. They were almost halfway
to the door before someone moved to interpose themselves with their
trajectory. It was Kelman.
"Where do you think you're going?" He smirked.
Mr. Parker moved to step around him. "Just nipping out for a
moment."
"No you're not." Kelman accused. "You got a call. I saw you." He
grabbed Mr. Parker's arm as he tried to slip past.
Mr. Parker felt his exasperation well up and bubble over. Too many
times had Kelman unjustly accused him-and right now, he didn't have time
for this. He needed to get back. Before he knew what he was doing, he
balled his fist and turned, hurling a punch into Kelman's nose. His
opponent was taken by surprise and crashed back into one of the many
tables, sending files spilling across the floor.
Kelman snarled and reached for his nose, shocked when his hand came
away wet with blood. He struggled to his feet, blood trickling down his
chin to soil his shirt. Security guards arrived to block further
transgression, and the President was hurrying towards them.
Mr. Parker shot daggers with his eyes at Kelman. So much for
slipping out unnoticed.
"What the hell is going on?" The president demanded upon his
arrival. "We don't need our own people fighting one another-especially not
at a time like this."
Kelman beat him to the punch. "Parker was trying to leave, no doubt
off to give information to them, when he attacked me" His tone made it
clear who the 'them' referred to.
The President rounded on Mr. Parker. "Is this true?"
"My wife's been attacked and is in hospital and my son is still
missing. I wasn't even taking my briefcase." Mr. Parker snapped and pointed
to his desk.
The president nodded grimly. "On your way then. Give my best to
Elizabeth. I hope she is all right." Kelman started to protest, still
holding his dripping nose. The president turned and started to move back
towards the central floor. He called over his shoulder causally, "Clean
yourself up Kelman. You have work to do."
Mr. Parker let out a sigh of relief and he and Nicole finally
managed to slip out of the door. Once they found his car, Parker peeled off
with a screech of tires. He glanced at Nicole in the seat beside him, still
clutching his cell phone and her personal organizer. "Make a note: as soon
as this mess is cleared up, I'm resigning from Antioch." She looked at him
in surprise. "And I need to make a call." He slipped on the hands-free
earpiece she passed him and dialed a number on his phone. "Hello, Wolf? I
need a favor..."
* * *
Scott and Sara made it to the hospital to find it surprisingly busy
for the day after Christmas. Sara quickly made her way to reception where a
flustered nurse was struggling to answer phones and sort through patient
files. Sara started to inquire where to find a patient, but the nurse
pointed irritably towards a doctor who'd just emerged into the waiting
room, before she returned to juggling phones.
Sara muttered to her second, "Why is it so busy? I thought the
fighting didn't spill into our plane?"
Scott sighed. "Domestic violence." After an arched eyebrow from
her, he elaborated. "Your chances of being killed or attacked by a member
of your own household rise by 70% on Christmas. Tidings of joy indeed."
Sara caught the doctor's attention as he was returning a sheaf of
files to a wall holder. "Can I help you?"
"We're looking for some patients who were recently admitted-"
The doctor grunted. "We're quite busy right now. Can you give me
their names, or at least their descriptions?"
"Elizabeth Parker, Andrew Taylor-"
"Ah," the doctor stopped her. "The mystery multiplying patients."
"Sorry?"
He reached back into the wall holder and pulled out the files he'd
just set there. "The ambulances called after picking up two patients from
the same address, one stable, the other was declared deceased at the
scene. Only, when they arrived, they had three patients and all were very
much alive."
Sara felt her heart skip a beat. Was the third one Jason? She
quickly described her brother to the doctor, but he shook his head.
"Sorry, he didn't have any identification on him... and he was
definitely not that boy." He folded open the third file and unclipped a
Polaroid. "We take pictures of all our John Doe's to send to missing
persons."
Sara felt her heart sink again. "That's Matt..."
"You know him?"
She nodded. If Matt was in hospital already, and they didn't have
Jason... then where was he? Was anyone still looking for him? "I can fill
out the medical information for him and Elizabeth. She's my mom.
The doctor looked relieved. "Good. If you can tell us anything at
all about this one..."
Scott cut in, "Why? What's wrong with him?"
"That's the thing. Medically, there's nothing wrong with him at
all... at least not that we can find. But he's in critical condition and on
life support. If you have any knowledge of previous incidents or
illnesses-"
A burst of commotion at the ambulance bay doors cut him off as a
team rushed a gurney in. The doctor broke away from Sara and Scott as
nurses rushed out from the interior of the hospital. The ambulance crew
began divulging their passenger's symptoms in a rush of words.
"Broken arm, shattered tibia, dislocated collarbone, massive
internal bleeding and possible head trauma. He's coughing blood, so there
may be a punctured lung."
"A fall?" The doctor inquired.
"He was in the middle of a field, so unless he fell out of the
sky..."
"Right, let's get him into theatre. I want sonograms and ex-rays as
soon as he's prepped. We need to hurry if his ribs have punctured his
lungs."
Scott and Sara were pushed out of the way as the gurney rushed
past. She looked down into the wheeled bed and felt her breath
catch. Jason's face looked up at her from beneath an oxygen mask and a
tangle of tubes. She reached out and grasped Scott's arm tightly. "Call
Drew's family. They need to know what's happened." She paused, an absent
look in her eyes, but quickly hardened her expression. "I'll try and get
them all moved to the same ward and start filling out their forms."
"Sara, are you gonna be ok?" Scott too had recognized Jason beneath
the sea of paramedics and tubes.
She nodded grimly. "I'm fine. Jason will be fine. We'll all be
fine."
As Scott moved to a quieted corner of the lobby, he watched as Sara
again tried to gain the attention of the distressed receptionist. Finally,
she slammed her hand down on the counter, startling the nurse. "Look, you
give me what I want and I'll take four patients off your hands for at least
an hour." It only took the woman a few seconds to gather the correct forms
and slip them into Sara's hands, a look of considerable relief on her
face. He quietly wondered at Sara's stoic behavior. How did she do it? How
could she stay so calm when...? He grunted at his own thought. 'That's why
she's a commander and I'm only her second.' He flipped open his phone and
dialed up information services, "Yes, I need the number for a Mr. and
Mrs. Taylor in Middletown, CT."
It took them a moment, and Scott turned his attention to Sara. She
was busy filling out medical forms and trying to get the four patients
moved into the same private wing. The voice came back over the line. "Do
you want the number or would you like to be connected now?"
"Put me through now."
A few rings followed, and then a woman picked up. "Hello?"
"Is this Mrs. Taylor?"
"Yes." And then, "Is this some kind of telesales call? Because of
so, then I'm sorry but I'm not-"
"Please," Scott panicked. "Mrs. Taylor, My name is Scott, I'm
calling about your son, Drew."
"Oh, I'm sorry. What is it?"
His throat tightened. How do you tell someone something like this?
"Hello?" The woman asked.
"I'm sorry..." Scott's voice was haggard and rasped
slightly. "There's been an accident..."
He heard her call shrilly for her husband and then, "Please, what's
happened? Is he ok? Where is he?"
Scott tried to control the tremor in his voice. He had to stay
calm. For their sake. "I'm sorry ma'am, I-I don't know what happened. We're
at the hospital now waiting to speak with a doctor." He continued to give
them directions, assured them he would still be waiting when they arrived
and promised to call again if they heard anything from the doctor.
* * *
Fiona was waiting for it when the doorbell rang. She'd made herself a mug
of strong tea and she carried this with her to the door. She opened it
cautiously, peering out at the visitor. "Yes?"
"Hi," the elderly man gave her a look of concern. "I'm Professor
Wolf, Mr. Parker sent me to check on you. Can I come in?"
* * *
After another good half-hour of waiting, the doctor they'd spoken
to before re-emerged from the depths of the hospital and approached the
two. "I think we need to talk. Privately."
Sara and Scott stood slowly and followed him into an examination
room. He closed the door firmly behind him.
He tossed four medical files down on the table and crossed his
arms. "You have some explaining to do. I have two physically impossible
patients upstairs, and that boy who just came in... You described him
exactly before he even got here. How did you know he was coming?"
Sara reached out for the desk to support herself and missed,
stumbling and falling prone on the floor. The doctor quickly checked her
pulse and then pulled a light from his coat pocket and checked her pupils.
Sara opened her eyes and, from the floor still, started to address
him. "You're bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, now right? You can't
repeat anything I tell you, can you?"
The doctor frowned and narrowed his eyes. He sat down at the table,
while Sara got to her feet. "That's right. Unless I think you pose a threat
to someone else."
Scott smiled at her trick.
She meanwhile, stood and then hopped up onto the examination
table. "For starters, the boy who just came in is my brother. We knew he
was missing and have been looking for him. I received a message at work,
telling me that my mother, Drew, Matthew and Jason were on their way to
this hospital."
"And I suppose you had nothing to do with our miracle patients?"
Sara shrugged. "Beats me. I don't even know what you're talking
about."
The doctor opened the topmost of the four files and began reading
from the medical report. "'Andrew Taylor. Ambulance team arrived at 9:27
after receiving a 911 call from the address. On arrival, they found two
patients, a middle-aged woman and an adolescent boy. The woman was taken in
for treatment of hypothermia and shock, as well as a number of superficial
cuts on her body. Paramedics found an empty revolver on the floor in the
kitchen, as well as a large amount of broken glass and a dented cooking
pot. The second patient, Andrew Taylor, was found outside the shattered
French windows of the kitchen. His chest had been pierced and he was
pronounced deceased at the scene, despite the lack of a blood
pool. Patients where loaded into separate vehicles.'" He looked up at this
point. "Now, this is where it starts to get interesting. '9:36, the
ambulance carrying the body of Andrew Taylor, reports their patient in
critical condition and in need of immediate medical attention.' Strange
that a dead body would need medical attention?" He continued. "'Upon
arrival at the hospital bay, the ambulance transporting the'-now
living-'body of Andrew Taylor unloads two patients, both in critical
condition."
Scott raised his hand and started to speak. Sara kicked his leg and
glared at him. "Oh right." He walked towards the doctor's desk and knocked
his knee firmly against the closest leg. "Ow." He said, rather
unconvincingly.
The doctor rolled his eyes and then made a show of checking his
knee for injury.
Scott started again. "I thought you said Drew and Elizabeth were
put in different vehicles."
The doctor nodded. "They were. The other patient with Mr. Taylor
was a John Doe. Neither of the paramedics recalled how he'd gotten onto the
ambulance, but he was in need of respiratory assistance." At this point,
the doctor opened up the second file with the Polaroid of Matthew clipped
to it. "Now, you know who he is as well. Frankly I don't care what his
name is, I'm more interested in his test results." He slid a number of
sheets across the table, which Sara deftly snatched up before they slid off
the edge.
She looked at them and then at him in shock. "You did DNA and blood
tests? Christ."
"Oh, so you know what I'm talking about?"
Sara frowned. "Not really. But sort of."
"Hmpf." The doctor clearly didn't believe her. "Well, not only is
there medically nothing wrong with him-in fact, he's almost too healthy-but
his DNA says he's roughly eight hundred years old."
Sara let out a low whistle. "I didn't even know they had DNA."
"They?"
She stared at him. "You're not going to believe me..."
He shrugged. "You're probably right."
"...But, he's not human."
The doctor put his fingers to his closed eyes and pressed. "Oh, I
can believe that. His DNA shows he's not human."
Scott stepped forwards. "Look, this is what we know: Millions of
years ago, when the first humans appeared on earth, we know there were
other intelligent beings as well. There were cave paintings and unexplained
advances in technology that indicated interactions. Turns out, the other
intelligent beings are what you and I might call angels. It's what they
call themselves, but strictly speaking they're not from our world. They
make their home in a plane that borders on this one, called Heaven. Matthew
is one of them."
The doctor blinked.
Sara continued for Scott. "We're from an agency called the People's
Coalition of Defense." She pulled out her identification badge and laid it
on the table for him to see. "Our agency works on protecting people of our
plane from interference from beings from other planes."
"So these angels are bad?"
Scott shook his head. "Technically speaking, no. But in the past
they became involved with certain activities that most people might not
approve of-eugenics in particular. There's speculation that they created
Jesus and were trying to do so again-or at least something similar. Mostly,
we try to keep them from doing just that, and protect people from the
denizens of Hell."
In a tone of disbelief, "Hell?"
Sara waved her hand. "Fallen angels, demons, that sort. Hell is
another plane that runs parallel with ours. Heaven and Hell seem to run in
opposition of one another."
"Right," the doctor smiled in sarcasm. "And where does God fit
into it all?"
"Oh, he doesn't." Scott explained. "Well, at least not that any of
them know. From what we've been able to ascertain, they've never even known
a 'God' figure to have existed. Anyway, yesterday, Hell launched a
full-scale attack on Heaven."
"And that's where my brother comes into the picture," Sara cut
in. "Apparently, he was the reincarnation of an ancient angel from the
'dawn of time' as it were. Apparently though, something halted the battle
before it even began and then... Jason-my brother-vanished. I was then
contacted by Matthew's sister-also an angel-telling me about my mother,
Drew, Jason and Matthew."
They sat in silence for a long while, letting the doctor absorb it
all. He strummed his fingers on the desk, and then started gathering the
papers together and returning them to Matt's file. "I have medical proof of
intelligent non-human life, and I can't even tell anyone."
Scott looked at him hopefully. "So you believe us?"
The doctor shrugged. "I don't imagine you'd be able to make up a
story like that on the spot. And his medical tests seem to agree with you."
"Can we see them?" Sara spoke up.
"Your brother is still in surgery, he has a lot of internal
bleeding. We're doing what we can. After hearing your story, my guess would
be that he fell all the way from Heaven. I'd suggest you pray for
him... but if there's no god, I don't suppose it'd do much good."
Sara reached out and touched his arm. "I'm sorry if we've somehow
damaged your faith... We don't know for sure that there isn't a God, just
that they don't know who or what it is anymore than we do."
The man smiled at her. "I've never had a whole lot of faith
anyway... I'll take you to see the others. They're resting in a private
ward. But like I said, Matthew is still on life support. He's in a mild
coma for the time being. Probably from exhaustion. When he arrived, his
sweat pores were leaking blood. I've only heard about it before in cases of
shell shock and war trauma but..." He trailed off, as he led them out into
the hall and to the elevators. When they got to the room, the doctor held
the door open for them, but then didn't enter himself. "I'll see how your
brother is doing in surgery." And with that, he left them.
Sara went to her mother first, perching on the edge of the hospital
bed and gently taking her hand in her own. She had an IV drip running into
her arm and a number of small bandages on her arms and face. Elizabeth
opened her eyes groggily. Sara smiled and reached out, brushing her hair
out of her mother's eyes and hooking it behind her ear.
"Drew..." she murmured.
Sara hushed her. "He's gonna be OK."
Worry crossed Elizabeth's face again. "Jason?"
Sara squeezed her hand. "We found him. He's downstairs."
Her mother smiled and lay her head back into the pillow. "Thank
you."
"Try and get some rest mom... Dad will be here before too long."
Scott meanwhile stood at the end of Drew's bed. He gripped the
metal bar in his hands, his knuckles white with the pressure. Drew's
breathing apparatus whooshed rhythmically and the heart monitor beside him
beeped periodically. Tubes ran across his body, into his arms and chest and
even down his throat. His torso was wrapped tightly in bandages. Scott
closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the metal. He couldn't think how
anyone would want to hurt him. He was so... caring. He wanted to find
whoever had done this and...
"Scott." Sara's voice cut across the ward. He turned, but couldn't
see her. She poked her head out from around a curtain and called him again
before disappearing again.
With a final look at Drew, he made his way towards her and pulled
aside the curtain. Sara was bent over the bed, peering at the face of its
occupant. She hissed at him to close the curtain again, and while he did
so, lifted one of the patient's eyelids.
"Look." She said. "Something's different. He looks different."
He looked down at Matthew and grunted. "Yeah, he looks like he's
dying. But I'm no doctor."
Sara shot him a look. "That's not what I mean. Something's
changed."
Scott looked closer at the body. She was right. Underneath all the
tubes and wires... something was different. It wasn't just the pallor of
his skin, it was-
The heart-monitor picked up speed, reaching almost double it's
previous pace. Scott looked at Sara. "What did you do?"
She stepped back from him. "Nothing! Go get a doctor. Something's
wrong!"
He crashed through the curtain and as he banged through the door,
Sara threw up her arms as bright light swallowed everything around her. She
heard Scott shouting in the corridor, summoning a nurse. She lowered her
hands. Matt's body had lifted up off the bed to accommodate the pair of
silvery-white wings that now sprouted from his shoulders. The heart-monitor
beeped faster as his heart raced. An alarm went off somewhere and an
automated voice announced, "Code blue, B ward." The wing nearest her
drooped, and then the feathers started to fall off. First just a few, and
then like a shower of great snowflakes. She heard running in the
corridor-the nurses rushing to the alarm. The wings had completely
disintegrated now and Matt's body lay back on the bed, the ground though
was strewn with a thick layer of feathers. The doors banged open behind
her, and with the sound of ice crystals shattering, the feathers dissolved
into a fine dust only to be swept away on a gust of warm air that ruffled
the curtain around her legs. The nurses threw open the curtain and moved
Sara out of their way only to find as they did so, that Matt's
heart-monitor had suddenly returned to normal. The alarm switched itself
off and the nurses looked at her in bewilderment.
Scott caught Sara's arm as she stumbled backwards. She gazed up at
him, a look on her face of... he couldn't quite tell. Fear? Surprise? She
turned from him, pulled her arm free and then ran from the ward.
The nurses looked at him. "What was that all about?"
"I haven't got a clue!"
Sara lurched through the fire-door out onto the fire escape,
flinging the powdery snow that had collected into the air around her. She
caught her weight on the metal railing and leaned out over the
precipice. Tears streamed down her face and her breathing was ragged. She
turned and beat her fist against the door as it closed behind her, slumping
against the metal surface as she sat hard on the metal grate. Her hair
slipped down, masking her face, but not the sobs that racked her body.
After a while, she wiped her eyes carefully. She pulled her coat
tighter around her and tried to control her breathing, her sobs turning to
shivers and then ceasing. She pulled the cell phone from her pocket and
dialed her father. He picked up almost immediately.
"Dad," was all she managed, before she had to take a sharp breath.
"Sara? Where are you? Are you with your mother?"
How did he know already? "Yeah I'm... I'm at the hospital. How-?"
"Fiona called me from our house." He said, anticipating her
question. "I'm on my way back now. Is your mother OK?"
Sara nodded, and then realized he couldn't see her. "Yeah, she's
ok. So is Drew."
"Good. I'm going home first to make sure Fiona is all right before
I come to the hospital. I'll-"
"Dad." She interrupted. "Jason's in surgery."
"What?"
"They found Jason and he's in surgery now. Matt's here too but..."
"Sara, I'll be there as soon as I can. Hold on."
"Dad, please hurry!"
She folded the phone closed as he hung up. She breathed out
raggedly, her breath expanding and condensing as fog before her face. She
sniffled again and tried to fight back any more tears. Eventually, she
stood, brushing the snow from her legs. She pulled her hair up, out of her
face and twisted it into a bun. She used the shiny cover of her phone to
check her face, wiping under her eyes one last time to be sure, before she
straightened her coat and slipped the phone back in her pocket. She
reopened the door and stepped back inside. Time to find out how Jason was
doing.
When Mr. Parker finally arrived at the hospital, Jason was still in
theatre. He was ushered into the observation gallery where he was told he
would find his daughter. She saw his reflection in the glass. "How long
has he been in surgery?" She didn't turn. "Three hours and counting." He
opened his mouth to say something, but she spoke before he could. "The
surgeon hasn't even been able to leave him yet to tell me his condition..."
she stopped speaking as a new team of doctors and nurses slipped into the
theatre and one by one replaced the original team. The surgeon was the last
to go. He looked up to the gallery window and nodded once before he slipped
out of the door and into the scrub room. Several long minutes later, there
was a soft knock at the door and he entered. Sara and her father
immediately turned to hear what he had to say. "We've managed to stop the
internal bleeding and repair the damage to his lung." He looked
exhausted. "The new team will set his bones back in place before
transferring him to an observation room. He'll need close monitoring."
"How long until he's better?" Mr. Parker asked. The doctor spread his
hands. "His body should heal in a matter of weeks, the bones maybe a little
longer." "When can we take him home though?" Sara pressed. "Not until he
wakes up, I'm afraid." She was getting impatient. "And when will that be?"
The surgeon sighed. "I'm afraid your brother suffered some very serious
head trauma. He's slipped into a coma. It could be days, or it could be
months, even years before he wakes up. The brain is a very delicate organ,
it can't simply be stitched up like the rest of the body." "But he will
wake up right?" her father cut in, a hint of panic in his voice. "It's
impossible to say. A lot of it depends on the patient more than anything
else. But no, there's no guarantee that he will wake up. I'm sorry." Sara
slumped onto the row of gallery seats and held her head in her hands.
Mr. Parker thanked the doctor, who quietly left, before he eased himself
into the seat next to his daughter and slipped his arm around her and
hugged her close, whispering "It's gonna be alright. Jase will pull
through. You'll see." She wept silently as he rubbed her back.
Eventually, he broke the silence again. "Do you think Matt can help him?"
She sat up and wiped her face quickly. "No. Matt's the one who's going to
be needing our help." She could feel his eyes asking the silent question,
so she answered before he could vocalize it. "He's lost his wings,
dad. He's just like us now." "Where is he?" "Upstairs, in the same ward
as mom and Drew. I had them all moved together. Jason's meant to be moved
up there too as soon as he's out of surgery, so we can go up there
now. Mom's alright, but Drew's a little worse off." They stood and she led
him out the door and towards the elevators. On the way, he caught sight of
Scott, still waiting out in the lobby. "Who's Scott waiting for?" She hit
the button to call the lift and crossed her arms tightly in front of her,
holding her own arms more than anything. "Drew's parents are on their
way. He said he'd wait to meet them." The elevator was empty when it
arrived and no-one else joined them. As soon as the doors slid shut, she
kicked the wall and cursed. "This is my fault, dad. If I'd just stayed
there, none of this would have happened. I would have been able to protect
them-" He caught her arm and turned her so they were facing. He looked at
her sternly. "No you couldn't, Sara. I stopped at home before I came to
make sure Fiona was all right. The kitchen still reeked of sulfur. It
wasn't just a burglar..." Her father fell silent as the elevator chimed as
the doors split open to admit another passenger, before they resumed their
upward journey.
Mr. Parker was still sitting by his wife's side when Drew's parents
arrived, the couple rushing into the ward and to his side while Scott
trailed behind. He stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of where he aught to
be now. He was a part of neither family and to stand too near either bed
would have felt like intruding. After a few uncomfortable seconds as the
Taylor's fussed over their son and Mr. Parker and Sara had moved over to
speak to them, Scott slipped out quietly. He found a floor map of the
hospital and set off back down to the ground floor to find the cafeteria.
Sara meanwhile spoke to the Taylor's, re-calling for them everything the
doctor had told her about Drew's condition. Of course, she was careful to
exclude the details of their son's death and seemingly miraculous
recovery. She'd tell her father about all of that later when they were
alone. Once she'd finished, she offered to find the doctor again so they
could speak directly to him and then went in search of him. Mr. Parker
retreated back to his wife, allowing them some privacy.
In the cafeteria several floors below, Scott had made himself a strong
coffee and bought a muffin before locating an empty table in the corner of
the room. But now he sat, picking at the pastry with little interest and
idly stirring his cooling coffee over and over. He was only vaguely aware
of the other diners in the cafeteria and a dutiful cleaning lady who kept
the place spotless. He watched the little currents he'd created in the cup
with the stirrer as they formed a tiny whirlpool. He didn't notice the
shadow fall across his table. "You alright sugar?" someone asked. "No
thanks." He said, not looking up, but covering his coffee with his hand.
The woman's voice pierced his thoughts again, "I'll take that as a 'no'
then. Don't mind if I join you, do you?" He looked up at the cleaning lady
as she took a seat facing him. She was younger than he'd thought. Maybe
thirty. "Uh, yeah, sure." "I'm just on my break," she smiled. "But you've
been sitting on your own for a bout an hour now. Everything alright?"
Scott shrugged and sighed. He looked down at the muffin; the edges of it
had been demolished by his picking fingers. He wasn't hungry and couldn't
understand why he'd even bought it. He pushed it away from him and then
took a sip of his coffee. "You waiting for someone in surgery?" She
inquired. He shook his head, stopped, and then nodded. "Sort of." "Sort
of? They're 'sort of' in surgery?" She gave a little chuckle. Scott looked
at her face for the first time. Who was she? Why was she bothering him? He
opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to the mark. "My
name's Chloe," and she tapped the small nametag pinned to her breast. "I'm
Scott." She sipped her tea and they sat in silence. Scott wasn't sure
why, but after several moments of silence between them, he found himself
opening his mouth to speak again. "My boss's brother is in surgery..." She
was still quiet, waiting for him to finish. "But I'm not here for
them. There's this boy upstairs. He got out of surgery a couple of hours
ago. His name is Drew." He pulled the muffin back towards him and began
picking at it again. "We were all spending Christmas at a house outside of
town, with my boss's family." "Who is he?" She questioned. It was quiet,
caring, the way she asked, as if she wanted to keep him talking. "I don't
even know. I only met him four days ago but..." "But?" Scott looked up at
her. She was staring steadily at him. He was used to being the man in
charge, the masculine guy who ran things on base for Sara. Why was he
acting like such a wimp now? He twitched his mouth and found he'd been
frowning without realizing it. Should he take a chance and talk to her? Why
not... She didn't know him. He'd probably never see her again. "I've
always thought of myself as straight..." He watched her for reaction, but
her face remained impassive. "I mean, I never really thought about it much,
it was just what was normal. But then about a week ago, my boss, Sara,
sends me to pick up her brother, Jason and I... Well I spent several days
with him, just doing stuff for Sara, but the more time I spent around him
the more..." He pushed the muffin away form him again, wiping his fingers
on a napkin. "It wasn't like I liked him-I mean, I did, as a person. He's a
nice guy. But not... I just got more and more attracted to him. You know?"
What was he talking about? Of course she didn't know. She was a woman he'd
never met, and here he was trying to explain how he'd had the hots for a
boy, but not really. "Anyway, we all went to their house for Christmas,
and this boy Drew was there. He and Jason are flat-mates in college or
something, we sort of ended up hanging out together after Jason's boyfriend
showed up. Turned out Drew liked Jason, but didn't know if Jason
was... that way inclined. But the more we talked about it... the more we
both sort of realized that we found him sexually attractive-but not who he
was." He looked up. She was sort-of half-smiling at him over the brim of
her teacup. He reached out for the muffin again, but she stopped him. "You
gonna eat that or just keep mutilating it?" "Uh..." "'Cause if you're
not, I'll have it." She slipped her hand under his and removed the pastry
to a safer distance from him. She broke off a chunk from the top and ate
it. "Sorry, go on." He still didn't know for the life of him why he was
divulging all of this to her, but it felt good to talk to someone. "We had
sex. Me and Drew." "Drew and I," Chloe corrected. "What?" "Drew and
I. Sorry." She took another bite of his muffin. "Was it good?" He blushed
and struggled not to smile. "It was amazing." He folded his hands in front
of him on the table. "But now I don't know what to do. He likes me, he told
me. He even bought me this for Christmas," he pointed to the thumb ring he
now wore. "And I guess I like him too. He's smart, and funny, and sweet,
and we get along really well..." "But?" She looked at him expectantly.
"But he's a guy and I've never..." He looked down at his hands. "Does that
matter?" Chloe set down the muffin and wiped a crumb off her lip with a
fingertip. "You've admitted you like him, you've had sex with him and liked
it. Is it against your religion?" He shook his head and chuckled. "No, I'm
agnostic." "So what's wrong?" He shrugged. "Nothing I guess. Well he's
younger than me by several years." He paused, and then, "No. I know I like
him, I do want to be his boyfriend." "So go upstairs and be with him!" She
urged. "Don't you want to be there for him when he wakes up again?" Scott
shook his head. "I can't now. His parents are here." "Ah. The plot
thickens." She helped herself to more of his muffin, pulling open the paper
wrapper. "Yeah." Scott tapped his fingers on the table. "I don't know if
he's out to them... or how they'll feel about me and him... They don't even
know me, so I can't just go up there at sit with him." "So go and talk to
them. Get to know them." Chloe had a chunk of muffin half-way to her
mouth. "If they like you, they'll be more likely to accept you and him
being together when you tell them." "So you think I should tell them?"
"Absolutely not!" He furrowed his brow. "Wait until he's awake and you've
had time to talk to him-find out if he is out to them-then you can tell his
parents together. I'm just saying, if they already like you, then at least
they'll know their son is with a good person." His face light up and he
smiled his first proper smile since before Sara had told him they were
going to the hospital that morning. "You're right. I will go talk to them."
He started to get up to leave. "Hey," Chloe touched his hand. "You've
been here over an hour. Don't go back empty handed." "What?" She rolled
her eyes. "Take them some tea or coffee and something to eat." He
smiled. "Thanks. I needed to talk to someone..." She grinned back. "No,
thank you. This has been one of my nicer breaks, and your muffin was pretty
good too." Scott laughed and then hurried back into the buffet line where
he mounted a tray with cups of tea and coffee and a choice of different
pastries. He paid for it all, and then carefully, so as not to spill the
drinks, carried the tray out towards the elevators. When he'd left, Chloe
finished the last of the muffin and her tea, before clearing and wiping
down the table. She sauntered over to the cash register where she'd left
her cleaning supplies. "What was that all about?" The portly cashier
asked, indicating Scott with a nod of her head. Chloe smiled. "Just
helping a confused little bi-boy sort his life out." And they shared a
chuckle.
The refreshments Scott had brought had been thoroughly welcomed by all
parties, but just when the atmosphere of the room had begun to placate, a
team of nurses arrived, transporting Jason's bed. Having stabilized his
condition in the operating theatre and set his bones properly, the doctors
had deemed it safe to move him to an observation ward. The nurses pushed
his bed and an accompaniment of monitors and IV tubes into place next to
Matt's facing Drew's and Elizabeth's beds from the opposite side of the
room. Sara had them pull the curtains closed around her brother so that the
rest of the room wouldn't have to look at his battered body. Her father
left Elizabeth's side and joined her behind the curtain. He took Jason's
limp hand and gripped it tightly in his own. Sara hadn't before been able
to see how badly her brother had been injured, and now, it seemed a miracle
that he had even survived. His right arm and left leg were encased in
plaster-casts and his left collar-bone looked red and swollen. His torso
had been wrapped in padding and gauze, protecting the stitching on his
chest and belly from exposure. Even his head had a bandage at the base of
his skull, and his hair had been shaved off. She stood at a distance from
her brother's bed, holding her arms across her chest. Finally, Mr. Parker
left his son's side and took her by the arm, turning her and guiding them
out from behind the curtain. He took her over to Drew's bed and cleared his
throat, drawing the attention of the Taylor's. "I don't know if you
already have something sorted out, but if you need a place to stay our
house is open to you. I went briefly before coming here, and the damage
isn't bad. It shouldn't take long to clean up the kitchen." He looked at
the clock positioned over the door. "Visiting hours will be ending shortly,
and I'm sure you need somewhere to rest after... all of this."
***
Elizabeth was allowed to leave after another day, and Drew had woken
up. Scott had been waiting to the side of his parents when his eyes finally
opened, and he smiled to see him there. His parents fussed over him
excessively until he groaned and croaked for them to stop. He looked
curiously at the two curtained off areas, but no-one said anything. He
felt the bandaging on his chest and winced. What had happened? He
remembered his abduction in the kitchen, and then standing out in a rocky
plateau... even the blade stabbing through his chest. Shouldn't he have
died? Yes. He should have. Lying on the hot rocks, watching the blood pool
slowly expanding in front of him until his vision dimmed and... and what?
He woke up in a speeding ambulance, paramedics working to save his
life. But in between? Nothing. Scott and his parents were daily visitors
over the following several days. He was glad of their company too. There
was only so much one could do while confined to a hospital bed. It was one
such day, when his parents had left to bring back lunch from the cafeteria,
that Drew turned his head to Scott. The man was leaning against the wall,
watching him placidly. He smiled when he noticed the boy's eyes on
him. "Hey..." Drew smiled. "Hey. Thanks." "For what?" "For coming to see
me every day." Scott smiled too and moved so he was sitting by the
bed. "That's ok. I wanted to be here." Drew gave him a questioning look
and glanced at the door. Scott shook his head. "No, I haven't told them
anything. I was going to wait until I could ask you what you wanted to
say." "About what?" "About us." The boy's eyes widened as realization
struck him. "You mean...?" "Yeah. If you still want to... I want to give
it a try." He took Drew's hand in his own. "Will you be my boyfriend?"
Drew tried to raise his head from the pillow but winced in pain. Instead,
he reached out with his hand until Scott leaned in closer. Then he grabbed
his collar and pulled him forwards across the bed until their lips
met. "Yeah. I still want you." Scott sat back in his seat, taking hold of
the boy's hand and squeezing it gently. The smile on his face could have
lit a darkened room. "So... what do you want to tell your parents?" Drew
pursed his lips. "Well, they already know I'm gay but... Well, do you mind
if we wait to tell them about us? Just until I'm out of the hospital I
mean... I want them to get to know you." "Sure." Scott's eyed darkened and
his face grew serious. "While their gone actually... Sara needs to talk to
you about what happened. Is that ok?" Drew nodded. Scott slipped away
from his side and went behind one of the curtain partitions on the other
side of the room. He re-emerged closely followed by Sara. Sara looked at
him apologetically before she spoke. "I'm sorry to have to do this... I
know you probably don't want to think about it anymore than you have to,
but I need to know what happened. My mom has already told me what she
remembers from the kitchen, but I need to hear what you remember, and what
happened after her story ends." Drew nodded, swallowed hard, and then
began to relate the events to her. She nodded periodically, as if checking
his story against her mother's. But when he told her of watching Elizabeth
get flung through the glass doors and their attacker grabbing him by the
wrist, her interest grew. He explained how he'd appeared in a place of red
and black rock, a great lake of lava at his back, and Jason and a stranger
facing him. He told her what he could remember about the words that passed
between Jason and his attacker, about the key. And then the shock as he
looked down to see a metal blade grow out of his chest. He noticed Scott
clench his fists. "And then the next thing I remember was the ceiling of
the ambulance and looking out from behind an oxygen mask." "Nothing in
between? Nothing at all?" Drew shook his head. "No, sorry." She patted
his arm gently. "That's alright. You've helped to clear some things up."
She left him then, touching Scott's shoulder as she passed him, and then
slipped back around the curtain. He looked up at Scott, still standing by
his side. "What's behind there?" "Nothing. Don't worry about it." Drew
glared. "Don't lie to me. We're dating now, remember? You're meant to be
honest with me." Scott chuckled and sighed. "It's Jason. He
was... hurt. But he's doing better now." "Why can't I see him then? Why
the curtain?" "We didn't want you to worry about him." "What, he's the
one person who doesn't come to see me and you think I'm not going to worry
about him? Tell me!" Scott opened his mouth, but at that moment, Drew's
parents returned bearing trays of food for everyone. "I can't in front of
them." He whispered. "But I'll tell you what we know later. I promise."
Sara took a seat beside her father. "Drew's story matches mom's. It was
definitely Damien who attacked them." She sighed. "He also said he was
taken to a place-from the description, I'd guess it was Hell. He saw Jason
there. He remembers being stabbed, but then nothing until he woke up in the
ambulance." Mr. Parker nodded gravely. "I'm going to go home and pick up
your mother. She said she's sick of waiting at home-" Sara started as her
phone started to ring. She dug it out of her pocket and flipped it
open. Static and garbled words poured out and she winced, holding it at a
distance from her ear. "I must not have any reception in here. I'll be
right back. Wait for me before you go."
She passed around the curtains and strode out of the ward, ignoring
Scott's questioning look. She made her way to the end of the hall and
flipped open her phone, just as a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into
an empty and darkened room.
She reacted almost instantly, snapping her arm back and moving away
so her back was against a wall before she took a defensive stance.
"I'm not here to hurt you." A male voice. British.
She didn't lower her guard.
"You can turn on the light if you want." He said. "The switch is
just to the right of your shoulder."
She sidled sideways until her shoulder brushed the switch, and then
pressed back against it. The luminescent bulbs above flickered to
life. They were in a private clinic room.
The man was seated casually on the examination table, legs crossed.
He was dressed in black trench coat that was spread in a semi-circle behind
him, underneath which was a chic pin-stripe business suit. "Sara, I'm not
here to hurt you. Just to talk" He cocked his head and then furrowed his
brow, muttering under his breath, "What is it with your family and making
me British?"
"Who are you?"
He gestured elegantly with his hand, tipping his
head. "Mephistopheles, at your service."
She eyed him over. "A fallen angel. I thought you'd be
more... impressive."
The room was plunged suddenly into darkness and red flame burst
forth around his hands, licking at his skin but not burning. Spirals of
horns rose from his head and two great wings unfurled themselves from his
back, spreading to touch the walls on either side. A red ring of fire
blossomed around his head, circling around his brow and his coat tossed in
a warm wind that grew up from nowhere. There was a crackle of thunder as
storm clouds collected across the ceiling-and then the vision was gone. He
grinned mischievously at her. "Any better?"
Sara gave no answer. She simply stared at him, a mixture of
emotions frozen on her face.
"I just came to tell you," Mephistopheles continued, "I over heard
you talking to your father and thought you might like to know. Damien is
dead. For good this time. Your brother made very sure of that-well, your
brother or Azreal, I'm not sure which."
"So you know what happened to him?" She burst out. "Can you help
him then? Help him wake up?"
The fallen angel shook his head. "Sorry, but we can't interfere
with your world anymore. We can come... walk about... talk to people... but
we can't ourselves do anything to affect the world. Azreal made sure of
that too. Say hello to Matthew for me when he wakes up."
"You know about him too?"
He nodded. "Of course. When an angel falls or gives up his wings...
we all feel it. Something like that affects us all-whether we're in Heaven
or not."
"Can you tell me if my brother will wake up at least?" Sara begged.
Mephistopheles shrugged. "That all depends on him. But Matthew
should wake up fairly soon. At least once his body has gotten over the
shock." He hopped off of the table, flicking his coat about him. "You won't
be hearing from us again I don't think. Unless of course you try to contact
us. And I'm sure with all the connections you and your father have, you
know how to do that." He brushed past her, the door swinging open before
him. He rounded the corner, saying over his shoulder, "Thank your brother
for us if he does wake up. He's done a great deal to further our cause."
She darted around the corner after him, but he was already
gone. She sighed and flicked out the light and closed the door, before
returning to her father and Jason's side.
Sara stayed late at the hospital, even after the others had gone
home. Drew had fallen asleep a few hours ago, his body still too exhausted
to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. She stood by Matt's bed,
arms folded across her chest, holding her arms. She stared down at Matt's
up-turned face. He looked so normal now. She stepped closer, trying to keep
from sniffling. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks and she quickly
wiped them away, clenching her jaw. "Why him?" she asked softly to the
room, barely a whisper in the darkened ward. "Why him and not..." She
balled her fists, and turned on her heel and left, the doors sighing shut
behind her.
* * *
It was another week before Matt woke up.
Night had fallen and Drew was just trying to fall asleep in the
darkened ward. He was startled to alertness however, by a metal clang as if
a dish had been knocked to the floor. Something else crashed and then Matt
staggered through the curtains tearing them open. He looked about wildly
and then stumbled forwards, a series of medical equipment and tubes
trailing behind him. An alarm sounded somewhere down the corridor as his
heart monitor disconnected. Matthew stretched out his hand, catching the
edge of the second curtain. His knees gave out and he fell forwards, the
partition ripping from its hooks. Drew could hear footfalls now,
running. Matt crawled forwards and gripped the edge of the bed. He
struggled to rise, ripping the curtain he still clutched, further from its
hangings and Drew felt his heart miss a beat.
Jason's face shown in the dim light from beneath a tangle of tubes,
wires and bandages. Monitors and breathing apparatus ringed the boy. The
nurses arrived suddenly, rushing through the doors to grab Matt and help
him back to his own bed. He started to struggled against them and one of
the nurses grabbed a stray IV, slipping a hypo in and pushing through the
sedative. Their patient quickly went limp and they loaded him back onto the
gurney, re-connecting his monitors and then slipping his wrists into a set
of padded braces. When they were finished, they closed the curtains again,
re-attaching the partition around Jason. Drew sat silently through it all.
Sara and Mr. Parker were there, bright and early the next morning,
breezing past Drew without a word and then moving behind Matt's enclosure.
* * *
Matt cracked his eyes open and looked about. Sara and Mr. Parker were
seated beside him, watching him carefully. He tried to raise his hand to
his forehead but couldn't. He looked down, jerking his wrist in the
brace. He looked at them questioningly. They said nothing. Eventually, he
swallowed and spoke. "Jason... is he...?"
Sara nodded, but when she spoke her tone had a hint of
bitterness. "He's alive. But he's in a coma."
He sighed and relaxed in the bed, but suddenly looked up, worry
etched on his face. "And D-?"
Sara put her finger to her lip quickly. "He's fine too. He'll
be out of here in another few days." Her glare never wavered from his face.
They sat in uncomfortable silence for several moments.
Mr. Parker looked down at his hands and avoided eye
contact. "The doctors say that if they don't wake up after the first
forty-eight hours, the chance of them ever waking up at all falls by sixty
percent."
"How long has he been under then?"
Mr. Parker balled his hands. "Almost two weeks now." He exhaled slowly
before speaking again. "But there is some encouraging news. They say his
brain activity still high. Which means he's still in there."
* * * Matt sat clutching Jason's limp hand in his own. He un-zipped the
front of his sweatshirt, feeling slightly uncomfortable in his new
clothes. Elizabeth had finally taken pity on him after a week of having to
wear borrowed clothes from Scott, and taken him shopping. All the Christmas
displays had already been taken down, and at mid-day the mall was almost
empty. He wandered from store to store, unsure of what to buy. Eventually,
Elizabeth had had to make the choices for him, selecting clothes and
telling him to try them on for size. They had returned to the Parker
mansion with his new wardrobe and he'd carefully put everything away in his
room. Not Jason's room. A guest room further down the corridor. He'd gone
into Jason's room only once since being released from the hospital, and
that was to reach the handle and close the door firmly. No-one else had
opened it since. The house had a fragile air about it. Sara wouldn't speak
to him, Elizabeth looked at him with saddened eyes, and Mr. Parker had
retreated into his study, saying as little as possible to
anyone. Mrs. Parker's company was suffering because she couldn't
concentrate, so she'd finally taken a leave of absence and left
instructions for how to manage things until she returned. The Taylor's had
left as soon as Drew was discharged to return to their home in
Connecticut-but not before he had exacted a promise from the Parker's to
call as soon as Jason woke up. Scott had been calling him daily anyway
though. Even the house-maid cum nanny cum cook had taken to trailing
Elizabeth around the house, trying to cheer up one-another. At first they
had all come to the hospital each day, taking shifts watching Jason,
sitting by his side. But now, almost a month since the events at the gates
of Heaven took place, the visits had dwindled to just once every few days,
and then for no more than an hour. Only Matt stayed faithfully by the boy's
side. Everyone else had things to do but him. Mr. Parker was finalizing
his severance from Antioch, Sara and Scott were busy trying to figure out
what the People's Coalition of Defense was meant to do now that Heaven and
Hell were no-longer interfering on Earth. With no one else visiting,
Matthew had to become very acquainted with the public bus system in order
to reach the hospital each day. He squeezed Jason's hand as he lay his
head on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes for just a moment- He sat
up. Had Jason's hand just squeezed back? Was he waking up? The boy's hand
clenched again. And then once more, his whole arm twitching. One of his
feet kicked out too. Matt snatched his hand free and sprinted to the hall,
shouting for the nurse. By the time she got to him, the boy was having
full-blown body spasms, his limbs jerking like a badly animated puppet. The
machines around him had changed from a dull monotony of steady beeps to
frantic irregularity. "What's happening?" Matt shouted at her as she ran
to the door again, punching the code alarm on the wall. She returned
quickly, checking Jason's chart and then administering an injection into
one of his IV's. His spasms continued, and the heart monitor let out a
shrill warning. A team of nurses and doctors barged through the door,
running a cart along. "What's happening?" the doctor asked as he pushed
Matthew out of the way. The original nurse explained breathlessly,
"Patient is suffering from chronic seizures. I've already given him 20CC's
of Phenobarbital. He's not responding to it and his heart rate is out of
control." The team of nurses struggled to hold Jason's convulsing body
still as the doctor gave orders. "Give him 50CC's of adrenaline. Get his
heart back in sync."
They did so, and the heart monitor started to slow, the BPM slowly
falling. Jason's eyes shot open, staring up at the ceiling. The doctor
leaned in, shining a light into his pupils and then away. "Jason?" He asked
again, "Jason, can you hear me?" But there was no response from the
boy. One of the monitors made a shrill beep and then the rest seemed to go
haywire. The Doctor leaned over Jason's face, "Jason come back to us now."
His blood pressure started climbing again and the brain scan was off the
charts. Jason's eye-lids flickered madly as the heart monitor let out
another alert. One of the nurses called out, "The adrenaline is spiking
his system."
"We're losing him again. Get the paddles ready, he's going into
arrest."
The trolley was brought forwards and then one of the nurses pulled
the curtain shut around the bed and then pushed Matt out of the door. "Sir,
you need to leave." Matt struggled briefly, but then common sense took
over. He backed away, and then ran down the hall looking for a payphone.
* * *
The Parker's and Scott arrived in a rush, pouring out of the
elevator to be greeted by a pale Matt and Jason's doctor. The two were
immediately assaulted with a barrage of questions. Finally, the doctor held
up his hands before him, begging their silence.
"We've managed to stabilize him, for now. We're still trying to
figure out what triggered the seizure. I'm waiting for the lab results to
come back now. His heart is fine, and so is his breathing. He remained
oxygenated throughout, so there's no danger of asphyxia. I've scheduled
Jason for a CT scan later today. We just need to check to see if there's
something in his brain that might have triggered this."
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. "Like what?"
"Like a tumor," Sara said under her breath, but her voice carried
in the hall and they all heard it.
The doctor nodded slowly. "Mr. and Mrs. Parker, I'm going to need
you to come with me so I can ask you some questions. If there's been any
history of anything like this in the family or... anything I should know
about..." They moved off together up the corridor to a private room.
Sara pushed past Matt without a backwards glance and went to her
brother's side, taking a seat in an empty chair and gripping his hand
tightly. Scott showed more concern for him, asking if he was ok, and then
if he wanted to get something to drink from the cafeteria.
* * *
It took another month before Sara even spoke to Matt. He was
sitting on the window-seat, overlooking the garden. There had been another
snowstorm and the ground was covered with at least a foot of the powdery
white stuff. It was too early to get to the hospital still, just gone six
thirty, but he hadn't been sleeping well lately. How could he? Each day
Jason didn't wake up was one day closer to him never waking up. Sara came
out of her room, heading for the kitchen but stopped abruptly when she saw
him. He noticed her reflection in the window, but didn't turn.
Eventually, she approached him. "You look like shit."
He turned his head to look at her questioningly.
"You look like shit." She said again. "You need to get out and do
something."
He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off before he
could even begin.
"Shut up and listen to me. You've been moping around this house for
two months now. We're all upset about Jason. But you need to get off your
ass and do something. Sitting around waiting for something to happen is
going to make you even more depressed and you're just going to piss off the
rest of us. We're the only family you have now. Don't take us for granted."
He looked up at her from where he was slouched. "What do you want
me to do? I can't go anywhere. I don't have any money, I can't get a job-I
don't have an identity."
She nodded. "I know. Me and dad have been working on that. I was
just going to get your papers finalized today."
"My papers?"
"Yeah. Actually, I need you to come with me today. They'll need a
picture for your passport and a signature. And you need to choose a name."
"What's wrong with Matthew?"
"Nothing. But you need a last name too."
He looked up at her, and then down at his lap again.
After a while, she sighed impatiently. "Go get dressed and be ready
to go in an hour. I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."
Matt looked down at his forms. His last name had been filled in
already as 'Parker'. He cast a glance at Sara. "I already have a last name
according to this..."
She waved her hand. "That was just a formality for the forms. You
can change it to whatever you want now."
He read it over again, and then looked up once more. "Do you mind
if I keep it?"
She looked a little surprised, but then shrugged her
shoulders. "Sure, I guess."
They waited as the forms were printed and stamped. They were
informed his passport would be arriving in a week or so, and then they
slipped out. In the car, Sara pulled out of the parking lot, heading the
opposite way that they'd come.
"You can drive right?" She asked. "I mean, you know how?"
"Yeah..."
"Then let's go get you a permit."
Finally, after waiting to take the permit test and then standing in
like for the better part of an hour to get everything stamped and his
permit printed, they took off in Sara's car again. It was still only early
afternoon.
Matt looked out the window and then thanked Sara.
"For what?"
"This... helping me. Paying for me."
She laughed. "I'm not paying for you. That's the other thing we're
doing today. Now that you have an identity, we're going to get you a credit
card. My dad already has an account set up for you." He started to say
something, but she ignored him. "Don't worry, you can start paying him back
once you get a job."
Once their business at the bank was complete, Sara checked her
watch and frowned. "It's getting late. I need to get back soon." They
loaded once more into her car and started the drive home. But after a
several minutes, Matt grew aware that his driver was struggling with
something.
"What is it?"
Her answer was terse. "Nothing."
He waited in silence, and then "Ok, not something." Sara chewed her
lip, and then pulled the car to the side of the road. She half-turned in
her seat to look at him. "Why Drew?"
"What?" He shifted uncomfortably. "Why Drew what?"
"Don't play dumb with me. I'm not stupid Matt. I worked it out as
soon as the doctors told me what happened." She narrowed her eyes. "First
Drew was proclaimed dead at the scene, but by the time he gets to the
hospital, he's alive again-with you as an extra passenger. And I saw your
wings..."
He looked up at her in curiosity.
"While you were in the hospital. Your monitors started going crazy
out and then your wings burst out of your back. I watched the feathers fall
off and then dissolve and blow away. I knew what that meant.
Mephistopheles confirmed it. He says all the angels felt it. So here's my
question. Why Drew?"
"Because Jason asked me to help him." The former angel swallowed
hard. "But that's not what you meant. You meant why Drew, and not Marcus."
She held him fixed in her gaze.
"Angels can only interfere with the unnatural. Damien killed Drew
before his time. That was how I was allowed to do what I did. Your
brother... Marcus... He killed himself, Sara. I couldn't have done
anything. I-"
"But what about Damien?" She asked angrily. "He was Marcus's
watcher. He made him do it! I know he did!."
Matt shook his head. "It's easy to blame someone you hate
already. But it wasn't Damien." Matt sighed and looked at his hands. "The
day your brother died, Damien was in Heaven. He was being reprimanded for
not paying enough attention to your brother and focusing too much on you,
leaving him unwatched and unprotected. But it was your brother that took
his own life. Damien neither encouraged him or tried to dissuade him."
"But why didn't you stop him!"
"I didn't even know he was in danger, ok? I was Jason's
watcher. Not Marcus's. No one is to blame for him dying. Don't try to make
this into something it's not."
Sara got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She walked
some distance away, and then sat down on the safety-rail. Matt watched in
silence as she tried to calm herself down. Finally, she came back, got in
the car and started up the engine. "Don't." She said simply. "Just
don't. Not a word." And so they drove in silence.
* * *
The weeks passed by, some days quickly, some days like they were
crawling at a snails pace. But pass by they did. Now in late March, Matt
had managed, thanks to Scott, to get a job working as a lifeguard at a gym
not too far from the Parker house. Scott had practically moved in, taking
up residence in one of the spare guest rooms. They were all expecting Drew
to come by for the summer as well. He'd been down a few times since, just
to see Scott and to sit by Jason's side for a while. With help from
Mr. Parker, Matt had managed to arrange a meeting with Mr. Wolf. Now,
without his angelic contacts, he was having to get used to doing things the
hard way. The meeting was an informal interview. He was applying for a job
at the university, something that paid more than minimum wage. Mr. Wolf of
course had been happy to arrange the whole thing but had some
reservations. Matt was, technically speaking, unqualified. He'd never been
to university-didn't even have a school transcript, or any sort of
resume. His job interview was in just a few weeks and he still had no idea
how he was going to convince them to hire him.
For the other Parker's the hospital visits to Jason's bedside had
dwindled to just once a week. They would all come by, every Saturday, to
sit by his side for an hour, before going home again. Matt however, had
been resolute. Sara had tried to dissuade him from spending so much time
there, but he wouldn't listen. He managed still to find time to see Jason
for an hour each day, and every Saturday, he was there from sun-up to
sun-down. He'd become a regular face for the nursing staff and they greeted
him with sad smiles every time he showed up, shaking their heads to his
silent question. Was he awake?
And this Friday was no different. He sat holding Jason's hand,
squeezing every now and then. The machines all around him hummed and
chirped. The breathing apparatus wheezed nearby and he felt the rubbery
plastic tubes winding across the boy's wrist. Matt had taken to reading
books while he was with him, sitting idly to pass the time. He lay the book
across his lap and stretched, tilting back in his chair, yawning and
scratching his chin. He fell forwards suddenly. Jason's eyes were open. He
stood, the book falling to the floor. "Jason?"
No response.
Matt checked the machines. They held their heavy rhythm. Matt
released Jason's hand and ran to the door, catching a passing nurse. "His
eyes are open."
She looked at him in surprise and then followed him back to the
bed. Sure enough, Jason's eyes were still open. She took a small light
from her pocket and flashed it in his eyes. She frowned. His pupils weren't
dilating. "I'll be right back, I'm going to page his doctor." She bustled
down the hall to the call station, keeping an eye up the corridor. She'd
just sent the page when Matt burst into the hall. He waved his arms at her
and shouted.
"Something's happening! Hurry!"
She hit the 911 page button, making it clear the doctor was needed
immediately and then ran back up the corridor to Jason's room. His body
temperature was dropping rapidly and so was his heart rate. The boy's lips
had taken on a bluish tinge and his eyelids were fluttering. The doctor
arrived as Jason's body slipped into minor convulsions. The nurse hit the
code call as the doctor rushed to Jason's side. He felt Jason's wrist, and
then frowned. "He's hypothermic, get him into incubation and give him 80ml
of Verapamil."
The nurse looked at him. "Are you sure that's the right diagnosis?
He's inside, under a blanket."
"His skin feels like ice and he's shivering. His body core
temperature is dropping and so is his heart rate." The doctor snapped at
her. "It's hypothermic onset. Treat him now and we can figure out what's
causing it after we keep him from dying."
The nurse administered the drug though one of Jason's intravenous
tubes and his blood pressure started to rise again, pushing up his heart
rate. She unhitched the gurney and pushed the bed through the door, heading
off at a running pace with the doctor to another part of the hospital
leaving Matt in their wake. He took a few minutes to compose himself and
then went to find a payphone to call the Parker's.
By the time they'd all assembled, Jason was back in his room again,
a fresh IV drip cocktail in his arm. They were standing around and sitting,
waiting for the doctor to show up. Scott was talking to Matt quietly in the
corner.
"They said he was hypothermic?" he was asking. "Inside?"
Matt nodded. "Yeah. I don't get it either."
The doctor finally arrived, carrying Jason's floor chart. He took a
breath before beginning. "I have to say, Jason is stumping us. This
afternoon, your son developed all the symptoms of hypothermia-before we
could incubate him though, his condition stabilized. We thought his coma
might be lifting, but his body seems to be staying resolutely comatose. We
ran some MRI scans, hoping we could see what was wrong with him. In case we
missed something that hadn't fully developed before-some form of brain
trauma-but there wasn't." He pulled out a plastic scan sheet of a
skull. "What we did find though, was a hugely abnormal amount of brain
activity. This is a scan of an average comatose brain. The red patches are
areas of activity."
He placed the color picture on the end of Jason's bed. They crowded
around to see it. Only small sections were colored in red, the majority of
the brain colored in green and grey. The doctor pulled out another scan.
"This is a scan of an average conscious brain. As you can see,
there are many more and much larger areas of activity." He frowned, and
then pulled out a final sheet. "This is Jason's brain."
The sheet was almost entirely red. Nearly all of the green and grey
areas had been eclipsed.
"What does that mean?" Mr. Parker asked for them all. "Well," the doctor
spread his hands, "it means he's not in a vegetative state. I'd say it
shows that he has a high chance of pulling through, but these
readings... they're off the chart. It's frankly somewhat baffling. We ran
the scans three times to make sure it wasn't just a malfunction. I'm in
contact with the best neurosurgeons in the country and as yet, they've come
up with nothing. All we can do now is wait to see if something else
develops or his condition changes."
* * *
He opened his eyes, looking up at the pale green ceiling. Machines
beeped all around him like a chorus of mechanical birds. He raised his
right hand, looking at the tubes that ran down his arm to puncture his skin
and the electrical finger clip on his index finger. His arm was sluggish to
respond as he lifted it up before his face. He tried to swallow, but
couldn't. Something was in his throat. He moved his eyes down, the view of
his lower body obscured by a mixture of tubes and medical tape affixed to
his jaw. His hands scrabbled with the tape, ripping it loose until he could
grab the tube freely. He wretched as he pulled it from his throat, gagging
on the plastic until his esophagus felt like it was on fire.
He looked down finally at his chest, tearing off the electrodes
that someone had stuck to his skin. The heart monitor beside him let out a
high-pitched whine as it stopped picking up his pulse. He pulled the clip
from his finger and swung his legs sideways off the bed, rushing to the
door. Before he could take a step though, his legs gave out under him and
he sprawled.
The shrill alarm alerted her and she sprinted down the hall, the
noise growing louder with each step. She slid through the doors to find the
patient in a heap on the floor. He was struggling desperately to move
forwards using his arms. The boy's legs trailed behind him limply. She
rushed to his side, trying to lift his body weight. He looked at her with a
mixture of trepidation and apprehension until she helped him into an
up-right sitting position. She reached for the medical file hanging from
the end of his bed and flipped it open on the floor beside her with one
hand, the other still supporting his weight. She found what she was looking
for and then pushed the file away. "Jason?" she said louder than she needed
to. "Jason, you're in a hospital. Your legs aren't working because the
muscles have atrophied."
He looked at her in confusion.
'You've been in a coma." She continued, again too loudly.
He winced and growled, "Stop talking so loudly! I'm not deaf."
She apologized and helped to lift him back onto the bed. Six months
with no exercise save for occasional sessions of physiotherapy and only
intravenous fluids to sustain him had caused his body mass to plummet. The
same thing that had made his own body unable to support himself allowed her
to lift him.
He settled back into the bed and she re-connected the IV drip,
finger clip and electrodes. The heart monitor beeped back to life, but she
switched the breathing apparatus off.
"I don't think you need this anymore, but I'll have to check with
your attending if you still need the oxygen tubes."
Jason's hand suddenly caught her wrist and he hissed, "Who is it?
Not Dr. Chastfield, right?
She furrowed her brow. "Who?"
He sighed and released her arm, sinking back into the
pillows. "Thank you."
* * *
A series of CT and MRI scans had shown his brain activity had
returned to normal. Once he'd begun to eat again and with a daily regime of
physio and exercise routines, his strength had started to return.
It had been a shock at first to see his family and friends
assembled in the small hospital room. They were all smiling, happy to see
him awake once more-and no one more so than Matt. He could tell almost
immediately though that something had changed. He wasn't sure what, but he
was different. At the end of the afternoon, by the time the rest of his
family was leaving, Matthew had developed a five o'clock shadow. As he
stood to leave with the others, Jason caught his wrist, begging him to
stay.
Jason waited until the door closed behind his family and then
gestured Matt closer. He leant down and the boy's hand reached up to stroke
his cheek, feeling the coarse texture of the stubble. "This is new..." he
said out loud and then frowned. "Things are different
now... I've... you've... everything's changed."
Matt nodded slowly.
"I tried...before... I can't see them anymore-energy, life, I mean.
Can you read my thoughts now?"
Matt shook his head.
Jason looked at him pleadingly. "What's happened?"
"Azreal's gone now. He's not inside you anymore. Heaven is flooding
with souls, Hell is empty. Angels can't interfere anymore with this
world. Your father has left his job. The PCD is working in coalition with
Antioch. Scott and Drew are living at your house-as a couple, and I've got
a job at the University starting in September. You made a lot happen, what
you did."
Jason shook his head. "Not what I did, what Azreal..." And then
realization dawned on him. "At the university? Why-Oh... Matt... I didn't
do this to you, did I? I mean Azreal?"
Matt smiled. "No. I did this. I chose to. Don't worry."
"How can I not? I've been in a coma for six months!"
"Jason, nothing's changed. I'm still me and if you want we can
still..."
The boy's hand reached out for his and their fingers gripped. "I
want to."
* * *
By June, Jason had been discharged, and by August, he was coming to
terms with a repeat year of college after missing finals and the entire
second semester. It had been difficult at first, knowing he'd forever be a
year behind his closest friends, but more frustratingly that Matt refused
to let him out of his sight or do anything for himself. They'd had a fight
and Jason had put his foot down-literally and proverbially-when he wouldn't
even let him walk the few blocks to Fiona's house on his own.
Now though it was the last weekend of the summer before Jason, Matt
and Drew started term. Scott too would be joining them. With the PCD left
with nothing to do but track reported visitations from angels, Scott had
chosen to go back to college and finish the degree he had left to join
Sara. They'd succeeded in securing an apartment for the four of them
earlier that week, and to celebrate, they were driving to the coast. Drew
had heard news of an open-air concert from a friend and after mentioning it
over dinner the night before, the whole household had elected to make a day
of it. Scott drove Drew, Matt and Jason in one car, with Sara, Jason's
parents and food for a picnic following in the land rover behind. As they
pulled onto the beach, leaving their cars behind, a group was already on
stage, mid-set and a large crowed had formed, enjoying the music and
sun. They quickly staked out a patch of sand, spreading a large blanket
before the younger members of the troop raced to frolic in the surf and
sand.
Except for Matt. He sighed and smiled, watching Jason run with
Scott and Drew. He set down the freezer chest he had been carrying and
wandered off on his own towards the rising sand dunes. He took a seat in a
sheltered drip, looking out over the sea as the haunting sounds of Sigor
R--s drifted up from the stage behind and below him. A lone seagull drifted
idly on air currents out over the ocean and he watched the air ruffle its
feathers.
He heard soft footfalls in the sand behind him but didn't
turn. Instead, he scooped up a hand-full of sand and let the grains slowly
trickle out. The visitor cleared their throat. Soft, feminine.
"Matthew are..." Sara started, "are you ok?"
He held his silence stoically. Out over the water, the seagull
dived, reaching for a fish or morsel just below the surface.
Sara sighed at his lack of response. She scuffed her foot on a tuft
of sand-grass and then moved closer. Eventually she sat, her legs out in
front of her, bare feet joining his own in digging into the sand. She drew
a long breath before speaking again. "Matt I wanted to say... I'm
sorry. For how I've treated you... I knew you loved Jason. I'm sorry it
took what it did for me to really realize that..."
"It was my fault." Matt said quietly, acknowledging her presence
for the first time. "If I'd paid more attention to Damien before his fall,
none of it ever would have happened."
Sara shook her head. "Matt, you can't blame yourself for what he
did. My brother's death wasn't your fault. Damien was solely to blame for
it-"
"No. I was the one who appointed him as watcher for your family. It
all comes back to me in the end."
She sat silently for a while, both of them watching the swell and
ebb of the waves on the beach below them. Eventually, she noticed Matt's
shoulders were shaking ever so slightly; as if he were try to suppress a
sob of grief. "Matt..." she started.
He raised his hands before him. They were shaking. "All I could
think about... as I was sitting there... holding his head..." His voice
broke and his shoulders slumped as he finally let out the emotion he'd kept
bottled inside. "All I could think about was how much I loved him and that
I never got to tell him..." The waves crashed and rolled as his mind
started to swim back through memories of the last nine months, past all
that had happened.
But her voice brought him back to reality. "Matt... None of that
matters now though... he's here. He's with us, and he knows. He loves you
too." He didn't look at her though. He curled his fingers slowly inwards
and then pressed his hands together. She scuffed sand off of her feet, and
then dug them a little deeper again. "I thought about what you said. And
you were right. Marcus took his own life, and I can't keep trying to blame
other people for that. I apologize for how I treated you, recently
and... before. I'm a spoilt brat and I'm used to getting what I
want. Almost losing Jason too made me realize a lot. I never had any claim
to you-but it still made me mad that I couldn't have you." She sighed.
"I'm not a kid anymore, and while the agency gives me what I want, I need
to realize that there have to be certain limits." She fell silent as if
she'd said more than she had intended. "Look at me," she chuckled. "Going
off and making this about me again." She chewed her lip, uncertain how to
take his silence. Eventually, she stood, brushing the sand off her
legs. She extended her hand down to him. "Come on Matt, you've got a
boyfriend waiting for you."
He blinked in surprise and then grinned, gripping her hand as she
helped him stand. His hand reached quickly to his pocket, checking to make
sure its contents hadn't fallen out. Together then, they crested the sand
dune and slid down its summit, leaving small wakes of disturbed sand. He
looked over to see the band leaving the stage as another one prepped to
take their place.
Jason, Drew and Scott had left the surf and were kicking a ball
around bare-foot. Matt took off running towards his boyfriend. Jason
kicked the ball, passing it to Drew seconds before Matt scooped him up in
his arms, still running. Jason shouted in surprise, but Matt didn't
stop. He kept running until they were deep into the sand dunes with the
surf to one side and no one else in sight for miles. Matthew finally set
Jason down on his feet as he heard the music from the stage begin to echo
across the sand.
"I can fly But I want his wings"
The boy laughed and kissed him quickly. "What was that all about?"
"I can shine even in the darkness But I crave the light that he brings
Revel in the songs that he sings My angel Gabriel"
Matt silenced him by pressing his finger to his lips. He pulled the
small box from his pocket, sinking to one knee. He eased the small cube
open, looking up into Jason's eyes.
Gingerly, Jason raised the ring from the box. It was made from
tiny, silver carved feathers, weaving together to form a band. Matt stood
wordlessly, and taking the ring, slipped it onto his partner's finger.
"Forever." He whispered, and their lips met.
"I can love But I need his heart I am strong even on my own But from him I
never want to part He's been there since the very start My angel Gabriel My
angel Gabriel Bless the day he came to be Angel's wings carried him to me
Heavenly I can fly"
Mephistopheles stood watching the pair from a distance, half-hidden
by a sand dune. He looked up at the larger fallen angel beside him. "You
can't read him either, can you?"
Beelzebub shook his head. "No. What does this mean?"
"I don't know." Mephistopheles sighed and then looked around. "Do
you want an ice-latte? I want an ice-latte. Wanna' go to Starbucks?"
* * *
Far away from the concert and the sand and the sea, Nodiesha
grimaced, her rounded belly rising and falling with her labored
breathing. She caught one of the imps that had strayed too near her, and
flung it away so it struck the wall and bounced off. The other succubae
fussed about her, cooling her brow with a damp cloth. She groaned as the
contractions began anew, the cords of her leg muscles standing out as she
strained. Her jaw fell open and she screamed, her voice echoing out of the
stone temple and ricocheting off of the black rocky cliffs.
***
Well, there you go. That's it. The end. Thanks for tuning in and
reading all thirty chapters. It's been so much fun to write this series,
and I'm more than a little sad that it's over now. But I also have a
tremendous sense of accomplishment at having finally finished it. I hope
you enjoyed the story. Don't forget to keep and eye out for any future
stories I may happen to write.
If you want to say hi or comment on the story, or just chat, send
me an email at ArchangelMatthew72@Hotmail.com
Take care!